Revises ep 3
"Come again," he said.
Elsewhere
Dizzy was shoving his things into her old Toyota with a half-angry, half-frustrated look. The car was being its usual self — refusing to start.
She let her head drop onto the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn, the sharp HONK echoing through the empty parking lot. She froze, looked around… no one complained. With a sigh, she tried the ignition again. Still nothing.
She fished through her bag for her phone — no luck. Checked the seat, the floor, the glove compartment. Nothing. Great, she thought, must've left it on my desk.
Heading back inside, she reached the lift area and pressed the call button. She didn't look at the floor numbers climbing on the display; instead, she rested her forehead against the cold panel next to the button.
"Got fired in the first week. Should've listened to Sita. She was right… that guy is not right," she muttered to herself. "Now I have to leave my apartment in Rd Number 10, near Ram Nahar, Janki Choke, Building Number 8, Krishna Complex, Floor Number 4… three-star venue with parking. How much I loved it…"
She slowly thumped her forehead against the wall again.
"But… me… stupid… girl… went… for… his… handsome… looking… face… What… a… dumbass," she grumbled, still knocking her head lightly.
She was so caught up in her self-pity that she didn't notice the lift doors had been open for a while.
A throat cleared.
She looked up — and froze. He was standing there, watching her from inside the lift.
When she didn't speak, he cleared his throat again.
"Is there someone else in the parking lot?"
It took her a moment to process the question. Finally, she shook her head.
"So what are you waiting for? Come in," he said.
She opened her mouth to refuse, but he simply grabbed her hand and tugged her in.
"Cancel all my meetings today and tomorrow. I've got a personal problem," he said briskly, eyes on the panel. "Make sure the changes are underway. Build a makeshift team for a task. Launch job vacancies for both the news channel and the paper. Call Supriya, tell her I'll personally take those interviews. Also tell her she's the new boss of the channel department until further notice — she's the face of the channel and we need to change that. Keep her busy.
"Find a new anchor. Prepare for our expansion. Maintain old routes — create a temporary board of directors for them and attend a meeting on my behalf just to waste their time. Let them think they still matter. If they ask where I am, tell them I'm dealing with a personal problem. If they ask details, say it's related to my father. Oh, and make another coffee for me — same as before. No milk, no honey, heavy sugar. Am I clear?"
He rattled it all off without looking at her.
When she didn't answer, he glanced over at her stunned expression.
"Close your mouth. I don't want to see your dry tongue."
She snapped back. "Wait a minute — aren't you the one who fired me this morning? I was on my way home! I've already started looking for another job!"
"Calm down, Dizzy—"
"Dazzy!"
"Right. Have you found one yet?"
She shook her head. "No…"
"Congratulations, you're hired. Nice meeting you," he said, stepping out as if nothing had happened. "Now get to work. I've got things to do."
The doors closed on her bewildered face.
"…What just happened?" she muttered. She stopped the doors with her hand.
---
Elsewhere, in the past —
"This place, Ashrama — or Ashram, whatever you call it — is a place of meditation and peace," the old man explained. "That room was the Room of Yugas and the Dashavatar of Lord Vishnu. The four doors represent the four Yugas. Each door is connected to its own era… but these are only imitations. Not real."
Seeing Raghav's blank look, he sighed. "You don't understand, do you? Didn't your father teach you the basics?"
"I know about the Dashavatar. But why was Lord Buddha there? Isn't he part of a separate religion?"
"He is," the old man said, "but let's not get into religion now. The ninth incarnation carries secrecy. Many believe it was the Buddha. Others, Lord Balarama or Jagannath. No one knows for certain. The Dashavatar were not just myths — they had cycles, motives, purposes. Surely your father told you at least that much."
"Stop saying that. I barely know him. He shipped me off to Britain when I was a kid."
The old man paused. "I didn't know. I guess he didn't tell you about this either."
"No, genius. So what was my father? How is my mother involved? And how am I involved? What is this Maharakshak crap? Or am I just going crazy?"
"You still don't get it," the old man said quietly. "Maharakshak is a job. A duty to protect the universe… from Kalyuga. And now it's yours."
"Wait, what—? Kalyuga? Isn't that an era—"
"I know what you're about to say. But Kalyuga has already begun."
Line break.
" After the battle of Mahabharat." And the old man paused.
"You know Mahabharat, right?" the old man asked, sitting in the white room before a golden lotus-shaped table.
"I know, I know," Raghav replied. "I watched some episodes on TV. It sucks."
The old man sighed. "Kids…" He slid his hand over the lotus, and a golden hologram of a battlefield bloomed in the air. Raghav's eyes widened despite himself.
"As the Mahabharat, the greatest war in history ended, and Lord Vishnu's eighth incarnation, Lord Krishna, died… Dwaparyug came to an end, and Kalyug — or we know as, the age of doom and a day of tomorrow— began. Ever since that day, a group of chosen warriors has been protecting the world and guarding Soma — an elixir, the life blood of gods. And one of these warriors was the Maharakshak, and your family has carried that title for generations. Your father, his father before him… and now, you. To fight evil."
Raghav gave him a long, skeptical look.
"So what's this Soma? And what evil are we talking about?" he asked, knowing there had to be a catch.
The old man waved his hand again. The battlefield dissolved, replaced by an image of a vast, churning ocean.
"In Satyug, during the Samudra Manthan — I'm not going into full detail — but it was like the era of great depression, where both devas and asuras churned the ocean to obtain the elixir Amrit to gain back their strength. But before it emerged, a deadly poison surfaced. Halahal. Potent enough to kill any being by mere contact. It poisoned the very world. To save it, Lord Shiva drank all of it… but a single drop escaped into the ocean. Later, when Amrit finally appeared, one droplet of it mixed with that poison. That combination gave birth to a being named Kali-Purush."
He leaned forward. "A formless entity. The embodiment of Adharma. All greed, malice, rage, and manipulation made flesh. His targets are people with weak morals, those who doubt dharma and karma. He promotes heathenism, and acts a hindrance in the path of peace and salvation.."
Raghav shrugged. "So? Plenty of people are heathens, and many people don't believe in Gods. I don't."
"Exactly," the old man said. "That means he's winning. The fewer who believe, the stronger he grows. Our job is to stop him — and his children — from destroying the world."
"Great plot for a story," Raghav said. "But as far as I know, humans have been doing bad deeds since the dawn of time. The world's still here. And it's going to end anyway."
"Yes. And our job is to delay that as long as possible. The end is inevitable, but not in our lifetime if we do our part."
"That's a pretty lousy reason. Why not just kill this Kali-Purush with a Brahmastra or something?"
"We don't have one. Humans are forbidden from possessing god-level weapons. And Lord Vishnu hasn't taken his tenth incarnation yet. Many are waiting."
"Why don't they just show up now and finish the job? Show themselves in public, scare the atheists into believing?"
"Divine intervention has been banned since the dawn of Olympus," the old man said flatly. "If you look closely, Adharma or you call it immorality, has risen ever since. No god will walk the earth in full power again. Those who stay here must abandon their godhood. If the gods could appear, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Raghav let that sink in. "Then why didn't my parents tell me?"
"You were the first in your family allowed to live outside this ashram. Otherwise, you'd have learned this much earlier."
"My father lived here?"
"Yes. I taught him to walk. Your mother often visited. She was a fine lady." The old man smiled faintly. Raghav stayed quiet, still processing.
"How the hell am I supposed to fight them if divine interference is banned and they're as strong as you say? I don't exactly have a magic hammer or tin armor."
"Didn't I give you those metal bracers?"
"Yeah, but what about them?"
"Follow me."
They walked back down the blue corridor to the white room. Inside were human-sized glass cases, each holding a pair of bracers. The old man stopped before one marked Ramcharan in copper letters.
He tapped the plate. From the braces and chest area, a blue-and-silver suit shimmered into view, a Sudarshan Chakra glowing at its center. The wall behind shifted, revealing five figures in black and blue neon light — a spear-wielder, a massive man with a mace, an archer, an axe fighter, and a swordsman.
"The five Pandava. Each unmatched in his field. Your father could summon their weapons or skills at will. Your great-grandfather could summon the Saptarishi — seven sages of wisdom. His father could wield the Navagraha — the nine planets. Every Maharakshak has different abilities. The deities they summon aren't real — only shadows of their true selves. You'll have your own familiar."
He handed Raghav two bracers. "Wear them."
Raghav took them hesitantly.
"I hope you live a long life," the old man said — and shoved him.
Raghav fell in slow motion, the white room spinning away. Then — wham — his head hit black asphalt somewhere far, far from the ashram
He got up with a pained scream, dusting off his suit, and looked around.
"Where am I?" he asked aloud.
He had landed in a hillside area lined with many streetlights.
" Is it supposed to be night time," he muttered, looking at the darkened sky and the huge moon behind him.
"This is definitely not India," he added, staring at a signboard covered in strange letters he couldn't read.
"Where am I?" he asked again.
"You are in the outskirts of California," came the voice of an old sage — from nowhere.
He spun around, searching for the source.
"I'm inside your head. We can talk whenever I want," the voice continued.
"Whenever you want?" he said out loud. "I have a personal life!"
"So did I," the sage replied calmly.
"That's not the point here. Ready for a battle? They're going to come soon."
"And who's 'they'?" he asked, feeling uneasy.
The streetlights began flickering. He gulped.
"Why does this feel like a poorly made horror show?" He matters.
"I suggest you put them on," the sage said.
Without hesitation, he began strapping on the bracers in a panic.
"Who's going to come?" he repeated.
"Chaya-Ratri."
"A Chaya–what?"
"Shadow demons, created from the remnants of Kali-Purush. He forges demons from the sins of people."
The last remaining light shone directly where he stood. His mouth went dry.
"And how am I supposed to transform?" he asked.
In the far distance, a lone streetlight flickered to life — and under it stood a creature with long arms and legs, a thin frame, and glowing red eyes. Behind it, several shadow-like beings stared at him.
"Just touch both of your bracers together and—"
He did it immediately.
"—Should have let me finish. Now they know exactly where you are."
The creatures charged toward him. He bolted in the opposite direction, frantically trying the bracers in every possible way. Nothing happened.
"Why isn't this working?" he yelled, still sprinting.
"Don't tell me you never meditated once. To transform, your mind and soul must be in complete sync."
"And you're telling me this now? Take me back — right now!"
"Oh, right, I'll do that—"
Before the sage could finish, a bladed weapon slashed his chest from behind.
He woke up screaming, lying in a white room on a table-like bed, back in his blue kurta.
"You should have told me you didn't have the required balance," the sage said.
Raghav glared at him. "How could I know? I have no idea what this job even is! And what were those things running on the street?"
"They were the Chaya-Ratri, as I said before. Only someone with divine contact can see them. The tall one you saw was the manifestation of someone's fear — and also one of Kali-Purush's sons, his ramnat at least. I gave you a book, remember? Read it. It explains Kali-Purush and his subordinates.
"And about that balance — come tomorrow. I'll teach you something."
He handed Raghav the old book from before.
"It'll start showing up when you pass a certain level — same for all Maharakshaks. But we must hurry. In the absence of one, Kali-Purush grows stronger. Our Soma reserves are being attacked. The Four Pillars of Dharma are holding them back, but without you, it's not enough. Remember — read that book."
Raghav hesitated. "Are you sure I'm the right choice?"
"We'll figure that out. Now go read — you've got work to do."
The lift appeared out of nowhere. As Raghav stepped in, the sage's voice echoed once more:
"Raghav, your parents may not be here to guide you, but their words and love remain. Remember — they always loved you, even if you hate them." And Raghav just gave him a glance, and the lift's door closes.